


an unexpected gift

by bloomsoftly



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, F/M, Gift Fic, Mutual Pining, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, steamy kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 05:01:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11960247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloomsoftly/pseuds/bloomsoftly
Summary: It's Darcy's birthday, and Steve finally gathers the courage to show her how he feels. Through presents, of course. Anonymous presents. Because there's only so much bravery a superhero can muster, okay?





	an unexpected gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Em_Jaye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_Jaye/gifts).



> for em_jaye's birthday! because she's a lovely human being and deserves all the nice things. ❤️❤️❤️
> 
> a huuuuuuge thank you to queenspuppet for being my muse, and for tolerating my whiny nature and gently encouraging me to write this behemoth of a birthday fic.

Nat lingered in the conference room after the mission debrief. Steve eyed her with caution, like prey watching a predator. She never did anything by accident, and he knew that if she was waiting until everyone else had left, it was because she wanted to speak to him alone. Whether or not that was a good thing for him, he didn’t know. Her expression didn’t give him any clues; it was perfectly blank, as always.

Tony and Clint sent him knowing looks as they passed, but didn’t try to save him. They’d been on the receiving end of Natasha’s talks more than a few times themselves. So much for team solidarity, Steve thought to himself wryly. Once everyone was gone, Nat cocked a hip against the table. She didn’t say anything, and neither did he. Instead, Steve crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down, waiting. The only sound in the room was the faint thud as she tapped a file against her thigh. His gaze was drawn to it curiously, and he knew he’d played directly into her hand when she grinned and stood upright.

“I have something you might find of interest,” she purred, tossing the file onto the table between them. He resisted the urge to look.

“Nat, if this is another futile attempt to set me up on a date—” It was a useless waste of her talents and efforts, though he hadn’t told her why. He hadn’t told anyone why their matchmaking wouldn’t work, that his heart was already taken. Steve hadn’t even told the woman who’d stolen it.

“I’m helping you, yes. But this isn’t futile. I finally figured you out.” With that ominous little statement, she pushed the file toward him. Against his will, Steve’s eyes dropped to the top of the page, where a glossy photograph was featured. He knew that long, curly brown hair, those beautiful blue eyes, the full red lips. His jaw dropped. How did she know—

Too late, he remembered himself and tried to school his expression. He glanced up at Natasha, and knew he’d been caught. She looked very much the cat who’d caught the canary. “Hmm. That’s what I thought.”

Steve shoved the file away forcefully. “Why are you showing me Miss Lewis’ confidential employee file, Natasha? That’s beyond inappropriate.”

She pushed it back toward him with an exasperated sigh, tapping a bright red nail at a short line of text near the top. “I’m not trying to spill any of Darcy’s secrets, Steve. Well,” she amended, lips curving into a sharp smile, “not any big ones, anyway. Look here.”

“It’s her birth date,” he observed slowly, not catching on. Then he did a double take. “But that’s next week?” Hurt colored his tone. “Did she say anything to you about it?”

“Nope,” she said, popping the ‘p’. “She hasn’t said anything to anyone, though presumably Foster knows.”

“But why?” he asked. His mind was whirling with possibilities, ways he could finally work up the nerve to show her how he felt. He’d been dancing around it for months, really, and hadn’t ever found the courage. But for her birthday, well…

“She probably didn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of it.” Her comment took the wind right out of his sails. She was right, of course. “Knowing Tony, he’d probably throw an overpriced, gaudy party where everyone was incredibly uncomfortable and drank too much. That’s not really Darcy’s thing.”

Steve nodded absentmindedly, acknowledging her point. Nothing showy, then. But perhaps there was another way he could make her birthday special, and let her know how he felt. He’d never been known for his subtlety, but perhaps it was time to brush up on that skill. With an amused quirk of her lips, Natasha interrupted his strategic assessment of ways to proceed with his newfound knowledge. “Let me know if you need any help.” And then she was gone, sauntering out the door as if they’d never talked at all.

Steve wandered through the hallway toward the elevator, moving on autopilot. His mind was already immersed in various plans, formulating and discarding various approaches until he settled on one he liked.

“FRIDAY,” he said, directing his gaze toward the ceiling out of habit. “I need some supplies.”

 

* * *

 

Darcy’s birthday week was off to a crappy start. Not that anyone knew her birthday was coming up. No one but Jane, anyway, but most of the time her best friend didn’t even know what month it was. But that didn’t keep Darcy from getting grumpy when someone stole her special smoothie out of the fridge. It was labeled **DARCY** in big bold letters—in sharpie, no less—so she knew that someone had seen that it was hers and snatched it anyway. It was an incredibly frustrating, no-good, terrible beginning to her Monday.

Her birthday was generally a bad time of year, which was why she hadn’t told anyone about it. There were too many memories—of aging in the foster care system, the years of no phone calls and no cards—for it to be a generally happy occasion. Most people didn’t understand that, though, so she just didn’t say anything at all. But she did tend to be more emotional during that week, like she was constantly walking around underneath a storm cloud.

Which was probably why she felt like strangling whoever had stolen her smoothie, even though it wasn’t particularly difficult to make a new one. Realizing that she didn’t have time to make herself a new drink and get to the lab on time, Darcy’s mood darkened considerably. With a scowl, she slammed the refrigerator door a little harder than necessary. The loud thud it made was strangely satisfying, even if it made Sam and Steve stare at her curiously from the other side of the kitchen. She hadn’t even seen them come in. Part of her was embarrassed about throwing a tantrum in front of her crush, but she shook it off.

Steve’s smile was gentle, if a little cautious. “Is everything alright, Darce?” Sam looked down at his phone and walked away with an apologetic shrug. He must’ve gotten a call, though she hadn’t heard it ring.

With a heavy sigh, she let some of her grumpiness fade. She just couldn’t stay mad in the face of that smile. Or that face, or that body. Damn, she really had it bad. “Yeah, I’m okay.” At his skeptical look, she scrounged up a genuine smile. It wasn’t too hard, when he was looking at her so earnestly. “Really. It’s just that someone stole my smoothie, and I don’t have time to make another one.”

He didn’t laugh at her, which she’d half-expected. Part of her wanted to ignore her responsibilities and just stand there and talk to him all day, but a quick glance at the clock had her cursing under her breath. “And now, I’m going to be late anyway,” she said. “I’m sorry, Steve, but I’ve got to run. I’ll catch you later?”

“Sure.” There was a thoughtful look on his face, but she didn’t have time to sit around and analyze it. It was amazing, how every time she spoke he ignored everything else, like every single cell of his being was focused on her. “See you later, Darce.”

The rest of the morning passed in much the same vein, except she didn’t have Steve around to distract her. First—if you didn’t count the smoothie, and she totally did—one of Jane’s hodgepodge machines broke in the middle of running a set of theoretical equations, so they had to do them by hand. And try to fix the machine, but Darcy was pretty sure that was a lost cause. There was only so much duct tape and wrench-banging that one machine could take, and she was absolutely certain they’d passed that limit a long time ago.

Then, there was a minor explosion in Stark’s lab, which somehow traveled through their shared wall and blew out the power on the little mini-fridge that Darcy kept in the lab. Which meant that the lunch she’d prepared the night before was no good. With a grumble to the oblivious-as-usual Jane, she got up and went to pester Stark to buy them for lunch. He owed them, she figured. And he either agreed or didn’t care, because he handed her his credit card and told her to take care of it. It was the first, and probably last, time she’d ever held a credit card with no limit. She wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility, and she felt like the little piece of plastic was burning a hole into her pocket the entire time.

When she got back to the lab, Darcy stopped in her tracks. “Jane. Janie!” Her friend looked up from her equations, blinking owlishly against the light. “Did you see who stopped by?”

There was a smoothie sitting on her desk, along with a note and some….glitter glue?

“Oh. Hey, Darce. Did you go somewhere?” Well, that answered that question. Without answering, she plopped Jane’s lunch down right in the middle of her notes. Ignoring the indignant squeak her boss made as it disrupted her reading, Darcy crept back to her desk warily.

It was definitely one of her smoothies, and it didn’t appear to be booby trapped. She examined it from all angles, in case it was one of the sick traps that Nat liked to leave around sometimes in the name of ‘training.’ But it was free of any malice, and she took a happy sip. It was absolutely perfect, and she kept slurping as she unfolded the note.

_It was Clint_ , the note read. _I thought you might be in the mood for some payback. He likes to hang out in the air vents above the common room, if that helps. Just leave his uniform alone, please, in case we get an assembly call. I have it on good authority that glitter is immensely difficult to clean._ She traced the lines of Steve’s signature, grinning like an idiot.

“Jane!” she hollered, much louder than necessary. “I’ve got something to take care of. I’ll be back later.”

Several hours later, Clint’s vibrant cursing could be heard on three levels of the tower. His hair and clothing were streaked with purple glitter, and he looked as though he’d spent an entire night out at a Kesha concert. Darcy laughed until her stomach hurt, basking in triumph from the relative safety of the kitchen. She and Steve shared a conspiratorial wink, and Sam gave her a fist bump as she passed by him.

Her birthday week was looking up.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Darcy was sure that Clint would find some way to retaliate. But nothing happened in the morning, when she went to get her smoothie (which was miraculously intact in the fridge, and had somehow been left untampered). Sam and Steve were in the kitchen, and gave her matching looks of confusion. ‘Clint,’ she mouthed, pointing a finger toward one of the vents.

Sam laughed outright, but Steve tried valiantly to keep a straight face. As if she couldn’t see his shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth. In a normal pitch, he allayed her fears. “He’s not up there, Darce, don’t worry. He’s not anywhere within earshot, either.”

“Oh, good.” She sank dramatically against the counter. “Don’t get me wrong, Steve, I’m so, so grateful for the idea of glitter glue.” Sam turned to his friend in surprise; clearly the good Captain hadn’t confided in everyone about his part in Darcy’s mischief-making. Whoops. “But now I keep worrying that he’s going to pull his revenge whenever I least expect it. I’m kind of afraid to go to work, to be honest.”

At that, Steve sat up straight in his chair. Well, straighter. Captain America didn’t slouch, and neither did Steve Rogers. Sometimes she wondered whether he was still getting used to his new body, even after all these years. “You don’t need to worry about Clint. I’ll keep him outta your hair, I promise.”

Even though she had no idea why Steve would go out of his way to do that—they were friendly, and Darcy was obviously nursing her Hulk-sized crush, but they’d never been besties—she took him at his word. Steve was a troll, with a dry sense of humor that not everyone understood, but he wasn’t a _liar_.

“Thank you!” she exclaimed, moving around the breakfast bar to press a bright red, smacking kiss to his cheek. He froze, and she began to panic. What if she’d accidentally overstepped some unspoken personal space boundary he liked to keep? At this point, discretion was the better part of valor, so she snagged her smoothie and fled from the room. “See you later, boys!” Sam was laughing again, and Steve didn’t say anything at all.

Despite the awkwardness of the encounter, Steve kept his word. Darcy went throughout her day without suffering any revenge from Clint. Not that she was thinking about the archer much. No, she’d been thoroughly distracted when she’d arrived at the labs to find a large vase of flowers and a coffee waiting for her. She recognized the logo of her favorite local coffee shop immediately, and a quick sip confirmed that it was her usual order.

Twisting the paper cup in her hands, she saw that the name assigned to the order was _the birthday girl_ , written in the barista’s familiar loopy scrawl. With her heart pounding in her ears, she kept turning the cup, looking for some kind of message to indicate who had sent it. There was nothing, and no note was left with the flowers, either.

Perhaps Jane—Darcy turned to look at her friend, who was sprawled out across the lumpy couch on the far side of the lab, snoring lightly. No, it definitely wasn’t Jane. But she was the only one who knew about Darcy’s birthday. Except Nat, probably, because Nat knew everything. But she wasn’t the type to give a girl flowers and coffee for her birthday. Throwing knives and lessons on how to choke a man out with her thighs, maybe.

Acknowledging that she lived in a tower full of spies and superheroes, Darcy shrugged the mystery off. Glancing back at her friend’s prone form, she kicked her feet up onto the desk and took a long sip of her unexpected gift. She’d earned a minute or two to savor it before waking Jane and starting their day.

When Nat swung by later that day, she stared at the flowers appraisingly. The quirk of her eyebrow gave away her surprise, and Darcy crossed her off the list of potential gift-givers. For a moment she thought that Nat wouldn’t say anything about the flowers at all, but then she murmured, “Asiatic lilies. Hmm.”

“Is that what they are?” Darcy asked, reaching up to stroke one of the soft petals reverently.

“Mhmm. Pretty, aren’t they?”

“They’re beautiful,” she corrected, missing the secretive smile that crossed the spy’s face at her words.

That evening, Darcy shifted things around in her bedroom so that the vase had a spot of honor on her bedside table. This was already shaping up to be one of the best birthdays she’d ever had, and she still had two days to go.

 

* * *

 

On Wednesday, there weren’t any little treats waiting for her in the lab.

She stifled a pang of disappointment, telling herself that it was spoiled and awfully entitled of her to expect something every day. The flowers and the coffee were sweet enough, she told herself. And they were; they were incredibly sweet and kind, and she wanted to thank whoever had given them to her with a giant hug.

Shaking it off, Darcy went about her day as usual. She and Jane poured themselves into their research, only coming up for air to inhale their lunch before they were right back at it. Tony stopped by at one point to debate the theoretical physics behind some experiment he was working on, but for the most part they were by themselves for the entire day. It was nice. She and Jane knew how to move around each other, like two planets in orbit that worked in tandem but never collided.

At one point, Jane paused in the middle of dictating an equation to exclaim, “Oh my god, Darcy!”

Used to these kinds of tangents, she didn’t even look up from the computer. “Yes? I’m right here, Jane.”

“You’re birthday is tomorrow,” Jane declared, pointing at the calendar accusingly.

Darcy blinked slowly, and finally looked up from the monitor. “It is.”

Abandoning work altogether, her friend stared at her. “And what are you going to do to celebrate?”

With a sigh—they’d had this conversation too many times over the years—she answered, “The same thing I do every year. Go to work, make sure the world doesn’t end, order takeout for the two of us, and cuddle up on the couch to eat ice cream while we laugh and cry at romantic comedies.”

“Hmm. I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Jane’s voice was quiet but clear, and she didn’t even seem to notice that she’d said anything at all. Her eyes were already gravitating back to the data they were transcribing.

Feeling small and alone, Darcy asked, “Are you abandoning me?”

It was Jane’s turn to blink. Immediately, her best friend’s arms were around her, gripping tight. “No! No, Darcy. I would never do that.” She wanted to ask why Jane would say something like that then, but decided against it. There were some things she was better off not knowing.

The rest of the day passed at a snail’s pace, and Darcy was seriously considering begging off work early with a headache when they were interrupted by FRIDAY.

“Miss Lewis, I have been asked to inform you that you have several packages waiting outside your apartment.” _What?_

“Do you know who they’re from, FRIDAY? I’m not expecting any deliveries.” Bewildered, she turned to Jane—as if Jane of all people would know whether Darcy had binge-ordered herself things while she was drunk—but her boss was lost in her work. Again.

“It is my understanding that they’re birthday gifts, Miss Lewis.”

“Shit. Umm, okay. I’ll be right there. Jane—”

“Go.” Her friend waved a hand at her, but didn’t look up from her notes. “Take the rest of the day off, and go deal with your presents. I can’t wait to hear what you got.”

There was a suspicious smile lurking at the corner of her friend’s mouth. “They’re not from you, are they?”

Jane blinked up at her. “Darcy, I just realized it was August. I’m waiting for you to leave so I can start shopping without you staring over my shoulder. Go. Go!”

She went. And was shocked to see a sizable pile of perfectly-wrapped presents sitting outside her door. It took two trips for her to get them all inside. Once they were sitting on her table, arranged haphazardly so they’d all fit, she found the courage to ask, “FRIDAY, who are these from?”

“I’m afraid I’ve been asked not to tell you, Miss Lewis.”

“Of course you haven’t. But—it’s someone I know, right? Someone we trust?”

Darcy would’ve sworn the AI sounded amused when it answered, “Yes, Miss Lewis.”

“Alright, then.” Picking a package she unwrapped them all, one by one, until her table was covered with birthday presents. And it was quite a pile, one that had her in tears. Laid out in front of her was practically everything from her Amazon wish list: books that had been on her to-read list forever, a funny doormat for the apartment, leggings with amazing patterns that normally she wouldn’t be able to afford, coffee mugs for the lab (featuring geeky science puns, of course), and even a disco ball. For her and Jane’s crazy dance parties.

With tears in her eyes, she requested, “FRIDAY, will you please tell my anonymous gift-giver thank you? And that I’d really like to know who they are.”

The room was silent for a moment longer, then the AI responded, “I have done so, Miss Lewis.”

Sitting there amongst all her new things, Darcy was overcome with gratitude. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Her birthday passed like any other day, except that Jane made a concerted effort to be less grumpy than usual. Not that Darcy would’ve noticed, anyway. She was still riding a high from the day before. From the whole week, really. She wondered if Steve knew how much that smoothie and his little glitter glue suggestion had meant to her. Probably not. The man’s modesty was astounding. Unless you put him in a room with Tony, of course. And then there was her mysterious gift-giver, too. But she would drive herself crazy if she thought about that too hard, so she shoved it away and went on with her day.

Work proceeded as normal, though Jane and Darcy were a lot sillier than usual. They frequently broke into song and dance as they worked, belting out off-key love ballads and musical numbers. They were so loud that Tony banged on the connecting wall, complaining about the noise. That only made them turn the music up louder, drowning everything else out; in their minds, it was revenge for all the months they’d had to listen to the blaring rock he blasted in his workshop.

Darcy felt a stab of remorse when Bruce shuffled by with his hands clapped over his ears, but then the Spice Girls came on, and she abandoned any notion of turning the music down to a more palatable level for their neighbors. Plus it was worth it to witness Jane’s adorable shake and shimmy routine. She loved her best friend, she really did, but the woman had absolutely no rhythm. Not that it stopped either one of them from enjoying themselves.

By the time that Darcy was headed back to her apartment—Jane had sent her home early again, for the second day in a row, which was a birthday miracle in and of itself—she was bright and happy, imbued with the magical power and energy from their six-hour dance party. Even the fact that no gifts were waiting for her outside her apartment door couldn’t bring her down. She’d already gotten so much throughout the week. More than she’d ever expected, really. And now all she wanted to do was bask in the glory of a birthday with no disasters, no world-ending emergencies, and no heartbreak.

Wine sounded good. Wine, and something sweet. With that in mind, she nudged open the apartment door and danced her way to the bedroom. She changed into a comfy t-shirt and one of her new pairs of leggings—it was her birthday, she could wear what she wanted—and headed back to the kitchen to scrounge through her bare pantry. Only to stop dead and stare. How she’d missed it, she didn’t know, but there was a box of cupcakes on the table. One was sitting on top, perfectly arranged with a lit candle. A bottle of wine stood proudly next to the box, and her heart skipped a beat. As she stepped closer, she could see that hidden behind the food and drink was another present.

A white envelope sat on top, and she carefully set it aside. After all this time of wondering, she realized she wasn’t quite ready to spoil the mystery. Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the ribbon that held the wrapping together, and she carefully pulled it apart. It was one of those luxury bath sets: the kind she’d always wanted to try but couldn’t ever justify spending her money on.

With her heart in her throat, she opened the envelope. It was unmarked, still white and pristine and not giving anything away. As she opened the card, her eyes immediately jumped to the signature. She recognized the handwriting, first. Her breath caught in her lungs, and her pulse pounded in her ears. Fighting the urge to pinch herself, Darcy forced her eyes up to read the handwritten message.

_Darcy,_

_I hope you’ve enjoyed your birthday so far. You deserve to be celebrated, sweetheart._

_Steve_

Her gaze was stuck on the loops and curls of her name, written so beautifully in his precise penmanship, but she managed to say, “FRIDAY, will you please ask Steve to come to my apartment? If he’s free, I mean.”

The response was immediate, and Darcy wondered if the AI might possibly be a bit of a matchmaker at heart. “I have done so, Miss Lewis. Captain Rogers is on his way to you now.”

“Great. Please let him in when he gets here.”

At a loss for what to do until he got there, she investigated the cupcake. Gently blowing out the candle, she swiped a finger through the frosting and brought it up to taste. It was champagne frosting, and she moaned, closing her eyes in bliss.

“Happy birthday, Darcy,” a low voice said behind her, and she spun in place. Her finger was still covered with frosting, and she felt like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Thank you,” she said, awkwardly bringing her finger back up to her mouth to finish it off. His stepped closer, eyes shining with something she was terribly afraid to misinterpret.

“You missed a spot,” he murmured, reaching out to gently wipe his thumb against the corner of her mouth. Before he could pull away completely, she turned her head and captured it with her mouth. Staring up at him, worried that she might be ruining everything, she swirled her tongue through the frosting until it was all gone.

His pupils were blown and wide, and he stepped closer. He looked like he’d been sucker punched, but his hand was gentle as it turned to cup her cheek. Pulling his thumb from her mouth, she held his hand in place against her face and closed the distance. Rising her tiptoes, she pressed a tender kiss to his mouth. It was sweet and gentle, and he immediately responded in kind. They were silent and careful as they explored each other with timid grace. Her body began to shake lightly, from suppressed emotion and the effort of keeping herself so close yet separate from him.

Pulling away, she licked her lips and memorized the taste of Steve’s kiss. Happy and content, she realized that he was frozen in place. Doubts swirled through her brain—had she misread him? After a moment of awkward silence, Darcy gathered the courage to ask, “Should I be apologizing right now?”

His gaze snapped to hers, and his thumb came up to rub along his lower lip. It was an absent-minded motion, and she wasn’t sure whether he even knew he was doing it. “No! No, Darcy, not at all. I just—I mean—was it just a thank you? Or—”

_Oh._

“No,” she confessed, licking her lips.  Arousal spiked in her gut when his eyes dropped to her mouth, following the path of her tongue. “No, not unless you mean _thank you for letting me do something I’ve imagined for months, because I could hardly think about anything else_ —” Her rambling was cut off by the frantic press of his mouth against hers. The touch was electric, and she sank into his hard body with a gasp. He seized the opportunity to tangle his tongue with hers, stroking and sliding until she thought her knees might actually give out.

And then his hands were there, one tangled in her hair and the other sliding along her back, gripping her shirt and hauling her closer to him. His arm around her back was like a scorching band of steel, burning her through the flimsy cotton of her t-shirt. She was weightless against him, floating with the sensation of his kiss, his body surrounding hers. The hand tangled in her hair gave a gentle tug, tilting her head back so that he could slide his mouth down to nip and nibble at the soft skin below her jaw and down her throat.

Her hands came up to grip at his hair, to clutch at the strong muscles of his back. He explored her throat with single-minded thoroughness, and she moaned as his mouth found the spot that made her vision white out and her toes curl. Arching against him, she couldn’t focus on anything but the scrape of his teeth against her skin and the soothing slide of his tongue that followed. Her gasping breaths were harsh against the silence of the room, and she could feel him grinning against her throat.

With a sharp tug of her hand in his hair, she forced his mouth back up to hers. She threw herself into the kiss, expressing months of feelings—unrequited, she’d thought, the idiot, they’d wasted so much time—and it was his turn to groan out loud. His hands dropped to her hips, gripping and lifting until she was wrapped around his waist and grinding into him. And holy shit, she’d never realized how sexy that supersoldier strength was. She’d never let her fantasies get this far. Which was good, because reality was better.

The need for air had her breaking away, but she couldn’t bring herself to separate from him completely. Still wrapped around him, rocking her hips into his, she pressed tiny, fluttering kisses against his mouth. It was his turn to mutter confessions against her mouth, soft and low, meant only for her. “I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” he said, eyes closed and voice shaking with emotion. “Never let myself think about getting this far.” He broke off with a low moan—the roll of her hips had hit the perfect spot, giving them both that delicious friction, the kind that robbed them of words.

With gentle hands, Steve freed her legs and slid them back down to the floor. His kisses grew softer, gentler, slowing down the breakneck speed with which they’d come together. She followed his lead—if they came together the way she wanted them to, she wanted it to be a conscious decision. She didn’t want to get caught up in the tide, swept away in pleasure only for them to regret it later. His thoughts mirrored hers, and his hands rubbed soothing circles into the small of her back.

“What are your plans for the rest of the evening?” he asked, staring down at her with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Well…” she whispered, casting about for a way to ask for what she wanted. Her eyes fell upon the gift basket resting innocently on the table. “I got these really amazing gifts for my birthday, to help me relax and enjoy myself in the bathtub. But,” she added with a pout, “I don’t have anyone to wash my back.”

His eyes darkened considerably, and a sexy grin tugged at one corner of his mouth. “I’m so sorry to hear that, sweetheart. I’m sure you could find a volunteer, if you asked.” Her gut twisted at the endearment; she wondered if her heart would ever stop pounding when he talked to her with such sweet heat. She wanted to have the chance to find out. No more games.

“Steve,” she said, dropping the coquettish act. “I want you. Do you want me?”

His voice was husky and raw as he looked down at her, and his lips were red and kiss-swollen. “More than anything in the world, Darce.” Without tearing his eyes away from hers, he reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head in one smooth motion. “I’m yours. However you want me.”

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments make the world go 'round.


End file.
